


The Pounding Beat

by _FUCK_DAT_DJ_ (Octotrooper)



Category: Splatoon
Genre: Brainwashing, Consensual, Consensual Brainwashing, F/M, I'm Sorry, Ink, Mind Control, Music, SUCKER NIPPLES, Smut, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 09:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18754015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octotrooper/pseuds/_FUCK_DAT_DJ_
Summary: {18+) (Splatoon AU where some of the characters are slightly older)28 year old Marina can't stop craving the touch of a certain egomaniac DJ...





	The Pounding Beat

**Author's Note:**

> 18+ story. I REALLY LIKE OCTAVIO, YOU GUYS. Hopefully you do too, and if not, maybe you will after reading this one. 
> 
> Ever since I found out Marina's voice actor is a gorgeous woman in her late 20s, I've had a hard time not picturing Marina also being in her late 20s. That's why this story takes place in a Splatoon AU where Marina stayed in the Underground until she was 25 instead of at just 16. It creates a nicer conflict on a general storytelling level as well, since she'd have been in the Octarian Army for much longer. 
> 
> EDIT: It's been months since I've written this and I've just realized that I didn't specifically state this anywhere in the story: this isn't intended to imply that Octavio and Marina were ever an exclusive couple. I've had the headcanon since I first laid eyes on the DJ that he just has a lot of sex, usually with multiple partners at a time, because the Octarians view him as a god for being over 100 years old and remaining that robust. Stimulating other adults is something he feels is part of his duties as a deity. 
> 
> Also, it's not that he prefers partners around Marina's age in this story (28), but that his big fetish is seeing how much pleasure he can give someone else. Watching people in the throes of lust is his turn-on, especially knowing he's the one that caused it. He'd be just as happy causing someone his own age to squeal. 
> 
> Contains: Consentacles, tentadick, colored jizz, food-as-lube (kind of), brainwashing goggles, displays of loyalty, squirting (inking?), size difference, enormous fucking age gap, Sex with a Massive Idiot Who Makes Too Many Stupid Puns, and oh yeah - SUCKER NIPPLES. You've been warned!

“Ya came back.”

Marina stood quietly, nervously locking teal-tinted fingers together, a single sharp tooth biting her lower lip. She was supposed to be a traitor, a freedom fighter, a leader in the Octarian revolution. She was supposed to be past all this.

Yet still she found herself walking into that throne room, standing where she had stood so many times before.

“I… did,” Marina managed, her voice cracking into a whisper. The long tentacles atop her head tensed as she bowed her head in embarrassment.

The enormous red octopus sitting on the golden throne before her shifted his position to get a better look at her. She was wearing an outfit he’d never seen her in before, a revealing high-collar leather top complete with an oversized zipper and matching leather miniskirt. He liked it.

“Of course you did,” he said. “Nobody could ever forget about me.”

“Deej…” Marina’s whole body trembled. She’d forgotten how intense of a presence her former leader had.

“‘Deej’ what? Obviously, ya came here for somethin’.” DJ Octavio slid off of his throne and crawled towards her until his face was just a few feet away from hers. Up close he could see that she had an expression that he knew very, very well.  “Oooh, and I think I know what,” he said, curling one of his many arms around her waist. Marina nodded.

“Nnh....” Hot tears welled up in her eyes at hearing herself confess. She was so ashamed of herself. She’d tried forgetting - Cod, she’d tried forgetting so many times! - but it was never enough.

“You gotta do somethin’ for me first,” the DJ said, a sadistic grin in his voice. “Gotta make sure your rhythm matches mine.” Marina swallowed. She knew he would ask.

She held out her hands in front of her. The DJ used a free tentacle to grab something small from behind him, then, after exchanging it with a few of his other arms, dropped it into her hands.

It was a pair of standard-issue Octoling Corps goggles.She ran her pointed fingers over the raised metal, made to resemble bulging Octarian eyes. She’d worn goggles just like these for many, many years.

And she knew what would happen if she put them on. She knew that the goggles would enhance the potency of the dance music pulsing around her. She knew the feelings of complete loyalty that they would stir. She wasn’t sure she was ready to feel those things again.

But the desires she had tried to ignore for the last two years were becoming too much to bear. Her body constantly felt prickly and uncomfortable, longing fruitlessly for that particular caress. The large suckers at the tips of her breasts would throb and contract, longing for the burning touch of wasabi-tipped tentacles. Her pussy ached to be stretched tight, filled by a certain massive hectocotylus. A hot ball of ink was building in the back of Marina’s throat, and she swallowed again. She had no choice.

No - that wasn’t quite it. She could easily tell him “no” and leave right now. He wouldn’t try to stop her - he wasn’t the type to pursue. But then she would have to endure another eternity of sleepless nights in Inkopolis, wishing that the feeling would go away and knowing that it never would. She’d just end up right back where she now stood, the DJ looking down smugly at her, one arm around her waist, a pair of goggles in her hands.

“You know whatcha want,” DJ Octavio said.

“I do,” Marina admitted, more hot tears clouding her vision. She knew  that there was no peace in continuing to resist. She removed her headphones and pulled the goggles over her face. A soft “click” sounded, signalling that they’d been activated.

The electronic music coming out of the tentacle-shaped speaker towers scattered about the throne room, which moments before seemed to be a quiet background texture, suddenly seemed to swell and intensify. Marina’s three hearts adjusted their pace until the beats inside her matched the beat of the music. Her mind boggled at the subtle nuances in the melody, at every complexity in the drums. There was no doubt in Marina’s mind that this was the best music in the world - _this was Octotronica!_

“Niiiiiiiiiice.” the DJ said, raising his eyebrows and touching the end of a tentacle to Marina’s cheek. “Looks real good on you.”

Part of Marina knew how difficult it would be for her to remove the goggles when this was over, but those thoughts were quickly being pushed aside by a powerful feeling bubbling up deep in her soul. Inside her was a growing need to uphold the dignity of the Underground and its people. She felt her hopes and dreams being pulled in line with Octavio’s. It felt so good. It felt so good to be back Underground. It felt so good to hear the DJ’s music in its most potent form. It felt so good to be Octarian - and it would feel so good to please the leader of the Octarians.

One of DJ Octavio’s tentacles pulled at Marina’s zipper, opening her top and exposing soft, round breasts. He curled an arm around one of them.

“Let’s set the tempo.” His voice was low and seductive. He began squeezing, tightening his grip with one beat of the song and loosening on the next. Marina let out a small gasp. Over a hundred years of sexual experience meant that Octavio had plenty of time to perfect every move, and Marina suddenly understood exactly what was in store for her. A second tentacle snaked its way between her legs and wrapped around her other breast, tightening and loosening on the beats opposite of the first one. The ends of his tentacles flicked playfully over Marina’s sensitive breast-suckers. She began to tingle in a familiar way - the DJ’s arms were constantly covered with a light dusting of wasabi powder.

Marina was already beginning to pant. She’d forgotten just how precise his motions were, how his touch was so controlled that it was somehow both firm and gentle. Her jaw loosened, and her tongue began to loll out the side of her mouth.

“Ohhh, you LIKE that, don’tcha?” Even without a visible mouth, Marina could tell he was smirking at her. She managed a weak nod. The DJ threw back his head and laughed loudly without breaking rhythm. “Good!” Then he suddenly snapped his head back towards her, and his eyes narrowed with glee.

“ _Loyal_ little fucker, too, aren’tcha?”

 “DJ, please…” Marina’s voice was a high-pitched whimper. “I’m not… I...” She couldn’t bring herself to finish. Not while staring right into his eyes. Cod, _his eyes_! Those big, green eyes that betrayed the wild and eternally youthful soul behind them! Those eyes with the passionate stare that blazed ten times hotter than all the artificial suns in the Underground! No Octarian could deny the power that lie in their gaze.

“I wanna see you in your _proper_ colors.” There was a smile in his voice. “Show me what you _really_ are.”

Marina took a breath, closed her eyes, and let her body revert to its natural Octarian colors. The tips of her black tentacles changed to a bright red. Her irises shifted to a pale grey, and her white sclera turned as green as the DJ’s.

“You’re _Octarian,_ aren’tcha?”

“Hopelessly so...”

“Oooooooo! I _like_ that!” Octavio said, gripping Marina’s breasts harder. A soft “ahh” escaped Marina’s throat. Her pussy began to twitch, jumping with each squeeze. 

“Now let’s up the tempo.”

Octavio’s pace doubled. A third tentacle nestled itself under Marina’s skirt and between her firm ass cheeks, teasing her groin by sliding up and down her crack. Marina yelped as her pussy violently shuddered. Thick, purple ink began to ooze through her tights.

“Awwww, look at that happy Octo-pussay!” The DJ was giddy with mirth, and his motions became more insistent. He pulled down her tights, exposing her cunt to the cold Underground air. “Pulsing and throbbing to MY Beats. You’re soooooo loyal...Ha ha ha! _You’re one of MINE!_ ”

“Deej…!” Marina’s pussy spasmed again, a burst of ink squirting out. He was just being a big, cocky bastard, as usual - why was it so damn _sexy?!_

“Tell me how badly you want me!” DJ Octavio commanded, using two more tentacles to spread her legs wide, while a third - this one stronger than all the others, with a green star-shaped scar - to stroke and tease the outside of her inky cunt. “Tell me how hot I make you!”

“Gah…! You’re… s-sooooo sexy, DJ!” Marina moaned. She only sort of wished she were lying. “I c-came all the way down here just to fuck you…! You make me hot. You make me wet! You m-make my Octopussy feel like it’s on f-fire! Just your eyes make me…! I need… I n-… ” Her words melted into blubbers.

He had her.

“Thaaaat’s it,” he hissed, shoving the scarred tentacle into her hungry hole and beginning to thrust. Marina shrieked. Her whole body went limp as deep pleasure washed over it. She was being rubbed, squeezed, _pounded_ in time with the octopus Shogun’s Beats, and it was magnificent.

“You like feelin’ my rhythm deep inside ya?” The DJ doubled his pace again, causing Marina’s moans to grow loud and untamed.

“Thoughtcha did.” Her eyes rolled back into her head. She was so close to orgasm, the kind of orgasm that left the tips of her fingers tingling for several hours afterward.

“You crave it.” She hoped it was a long one - the DJ so enjoyed seeing the result of his efforts.

“You want _MORE.”_

“ _S...SPICY!_ ” Marina couldn’t hold back her orgasm any longer. Waves of extreme pleasure shot through every part of her body on each drumbeat. Her fingers twitched and her legs flailed. Each sensation seemed to be stronger than the last. Her cunt pulsed several times, spraying ink all over the DJ’s hectocotylus.

The DJ laughed uncontrollably as a mighty orgasm overcame him as well. A fountain of Ink burst out of the end of his hectocotylus and into Marina’s pussy. Marina writhed as her insides were quickly filled to far beyond satisfaction, the increased pressure massaging her G-spot and causing her to have a second, screaming orgasm.

-x-x-x-

Both Octarians now laid on the ground, surrounded by a pool of the ink that their pleasure had created, their breathing labored and heavy.

Marina knew it wouldn’t last. The DJ’s famous Beats were still being pumped in the room, filling all three of her hearts with loyalty and a distinctly Octarian pride. She knew that the DJ would be back up again in a few minutes, all eight of his tentacles raring to fuck again.

Honestly? She’d probably be the same way.


End file.
